


the things i'd do to you (if i had a mile in his shoes)

by chthonicjason



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: Bodyswap, Bottom Jason Todd, M/M, Uninformed Consent, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chthonicjason/pseuds/chthonicjason
Summary: His attention gets caught, immediately, on the arms supporting his weight.Hisarms, presumably, except no.  Absolutely not.  Pale, freckled skin; broad, callused hands; strong, tattooed arms; a thin, silvery scar on the right ring finger from catching a knife wrong when they’d been fourteen.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Comments: 23
Kudos: 232





	the things i'd do to you (if i had a mile in his shoes)

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is both my first fic in this fandom and my first smut. Go easy on me? Further explanation about the noncon warning in the end notes!

One of his neighbors is making breakfast.

The pop and crackle of sizzling bacon, the tantalizing smell, is what first stirs Dick from sleep. The cook - whoever it is - is humming, absentminded but soothing enough to keep him on the cusp of not-quite-awake.

It’s a pleasant wakeup call, all things considered; so much so that it negates any annoyance over just how thin his apartment walls apparently are - for now, at least.

He burrows further into the couch, nose smushed into a softer than he remembers cushion, and debates another hour or two of sleep. His body aches, bruises he doesn’t remember receiving throbbing in time with his heart, and the idea of drifting back into unconsciousness with his very own makeshift lullaby is a tempting one.

He’s just about settled into a doze when there’s the noise of glassware, plates clinking off one another and cutlery being set into place. It’s a slow burn of a realization, taking several moments too many to sink in. 

The walls aren’t _that_ thin; there’s someone in his apartment.

He rolls off the couch, previous fatigue forgotten under the sickening surge of adrenaline. What he’d meant to be a leap into action is more of an awkward flail than anything, and instead of finding himself up on his feet he greets the floor with a sudden and painful thud.

Considering the fact that Dick’s spent his entire life fighting gravity and _winning_ , he feels more than justified in the prickling of unease that trickles down his spine.

There’s the sound of rushing footsteps, too close for Dick to do anything more than push himself up from where he’d face planted into the carpet. 

His attention gets caught, immediately, on the arms supporting his weight. _His_ arms, presumably, except no. Absolutely not. Pale, freckled skin; broad, callused hands; strong, tattooed arms; a thin, silvery scar on the right ring finger from catching a knife wrong when they’d been fourteen.

“Fuck, are you okay?” The voice is concerned, still slightly sleep rough, and instantly recognizable. Dick drags his attention away from the first impossibility to lay eyes on the second.

It’s Jason - because it’s always Jason, with them; he’s standing in the living room of an unfamiliar apartment, watching Dick with worried eyes. Dick hasn’t seen him in… god, almost six months, now, and the sight of his bedhead and low riding sweatpants is enough to leave Dick momentarily breathless.

It also solidifies Dick’s panicked suspicions; after all, there’s only one person in the multiverse allowed to see Jason so unguarded.

“Roy? You okay, man?”

He blinks up at Jason, more than a little nonplussed, and realizes with rising dread that Jason will absolutely _hate_ this. It’s difficult enough to earn Jason’s goodwill when they meet at a predetermined, neutral location. Dick showing up in his life, in what appears to be his home, _in his best friend_? The reaction will be apoplectic, and Dick will be lucky if he sees Jason again this decade.

“M’fine, Jaybird. Bad dream, s’all.” Cost-benefit analysis makes his decision for him without much thought. It’s ~~easier~~ safer to pretend, at least until he can slip away without raising any questions. Then he can fix this, and Jason will be none the wiser.

Dick rolls onto his back, mimicking Roy’s lazy sprawl, and tries to think of this as any other undercover mission. A mission he’s beyond prepared for, considering the years and years he’s known Roy.

“Must’ve been a hell of a dream,” Jason inches closer, his eyes soft despite the annoyance he’s playing at, “When did you get here, anyway? Last we talked you thought you’d still be with the Titans a few more days.” 

“Turns out the target was more bark than bite. We had their base cleared in under an hour.” _Shit_ , Dick thinks, fervent. The Titans. That _mission_. That random, stray bolt of magic that had hit Dick and then proceeded to do absolutely nothing. He’d known he should’ve said something to Rae, to anyone, but he’d just wanted to go home and sleep.

It hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal at the time.

“Right,” Jason drawls, “And you just decided to break into my apartment in the middle of the night and crash on my couch?”

“What better way to relax after a Titans mission?” He quips, smiling to himself when it makes Jason snort. 

“Whatever you say, dork,” Jason rolls his eyes, looking painfully fond, before turning on his heel and walking away. “Breakfast is going to be done soon, if you ever feel like getting off the floor.”

Dick’s up and following him before he’s even finished speaking.

Stepping into the kitchen is a bit like stepping into another world. One where Jason is relaxed, _happy_ , in his presence; radiant in the early morning light streaming through the windows as he butters toast and plates omelettes. There’s two steaming mugs of coffee waiting at the dining table, and Jason’s resumed humming to himself, regardless of his audience.

It’s the picture of domestic bliss - a flawless display of everything Dick tries, and fails, not to dream about.

Chest aching with something raw and wanting, Dick sits down at the table in silence.

Jason joins him only moments later, plates of food in hand, and Dick lets himself get lost in his role as they eat. He can’t remember the last time he was the reason Jason laughed, but for Roy there’s nothing but dimpled grins and delighted guffaws. It’s addictive, to hold the full weight of Jason’s attention when not in his crosshairs. 

“I,” Jason begins as the meal draws to a close, eyes fixed on where he’s dragging his fork through what remains of his eggs. “I made up my mind… about what we talked about, before you left.”

“You… did?” Dick blinks at him, hoping his panic isn’t clear as he tries to recall if Roy had said _anything_ the past few days in regards to Jason. Seeing as how Dick can’t remember the last time he and Roy had a conversation about anything that wasn’t Titans affiliated, it’s not surprising that he’s drawing a blank.

“Yes.” It’s a confident reply, even as he flushes under the weight of Dick’s stare. “It’s - I’m not going to pretend to understand why the hell you’d want to be with me, but. I’m not in the habit of letting opportunities pass me by. Why should this be an exception?”

 _Oh_ , Dick thinks, more than a little heartsick as the puzzle pieces click into place. He’d known this was a possibility, of course - anyone could see how Jason and Roy orbited each other - but he’d been steadfast in his denial. Jason has a reputation for being oblivious to such things, and Dick had been selfish enough to hope that’d remain true.

“Unless,” Dick has seen Jason bleeding out before, his blood staining alleyways and rooftops and car seats, but even then he hadn’t looked as vulnerable as he does now. “Unless you changed your mind?”

God. Any jealousy - or rationale - abandons him in the face of Jason’s uncertainty, the way he seems braced for heartbreak.

“I haven’t. _Of course_ I haven’t.” It’s instinct that has him reaching out for Jason’s hands, capturing them between his own and reveling in the way Jason grabs back at him. 

Jason’s smile is shy, pleased, as he stares down at their joined hands; it’s an expression that fills the hollow cavern of Dick’s chest, adoration curling like roots amongst the rungs of his ribcage.

“Can I -”

“Yes,” Dick interrupts, mesmerized by the color staining Jason’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. There’s not a single thing Jason could ask for that Dick wouldn't willingly give. 

The loss of Jason’s hands between his own is sudden - is almost enough to make Dick let out an absolutely _pathetic_ noise in response - as Jason moves out of his seat and rounds the table. Dick can only watch, wide eyed and dry mouthed, as he finds himself with a lapful of Jason. 

Overwhelming is too gentle a word for how it feels. Every part of Dick, every _atom_ , is keyed into Jason; the curl of his eyelashes and the dotting of freckles across his nose and the seeping warmth of his nearness.

Yet even all of that gets eclipsed when Jason places hesitant lips against his own.

Sensation bombards him immediately: the plush give of Jason’s mouth against his own; the little sigh Jason breathes into him when Dick deepens the kiss; the phantom taste of coffee and cinnamon he chases with his tongue. The bitten off moan Dick can feel as much as hear when Jason grinds down against him. 

It’s all beyond intoxicating, beyond addictive. It seems impossible, now that he knows what he’s been missing, to think he lived so long without knowing the taste of Jason’s kiss, or the sweet weight of him in his lap.

Jason pulls away, gasping against his mouth. Dick takes the opportunity to trail kisses along the line of his jaw. Noses at the delicate skin behind his ear when Jason leans his head against his shoulder, bites down hard enough to bruise when Jason moans a name Dick is trying to forget.

“ _Roy_ ,” Jason repeats, grabbing fistfuls of long red hair to pull Dick away. His eyes are blown wide when their gazes meet, nothing but the faintest ring of green remaining. “Fuck me.”

The command is breathy, all wet dream eagerness and dark eyed intent. Whatever hope Dick had of remembering himself, and all the ways this is a betrayal, vanishes in a heartbeat.

“ _God_ ,” He chokes out, pulling Jason back down to taste those words on his lips. His hands skim underneath Jason’s tank top, tracing the notches of his spine just for the way the drag of calluses makes Jason shiver. It’s easy, from there, to follow the curve of it back down to the swell of his ass.

“I can pick you up,” Dick sounds dazed to his own ears, the weight of realization an impact he hadn’t braced for. Jason hums a little questioning sound, head ducked down as he mouths at the skin of Dick’s neck.

“Hold on,” He shifts his grip into less of a grope and more of a hold, shifting to stand up from the chair. Jason doesn’t hesitate to wind his arms around Dick’s neck and lock his legs around his hips.

It’s Roy’s strength that makes it easy to carry Jason away from the kitchen and into the bedroom, but it’s hard to be bitter over it with Jason wrapped around him.

It’s far from graceful, Dick stumbling over his feet and careening them into walls, but all either of them care about is that it gets them to their destination without having to separate. He stumbles through the bedroom doorway and then, as Jason’s laughter vibrates through both their chests, onto the bed. 

_Little Wing_ , he thinks, reverent, leaning back as far as the ankles locked at the small of his back will let him. Jason is splayed out underneath him, his cheeks all pretty in pink and his eyes wild. _I did that_ , The thought is an incredulous one, and he has to dive back in for another kiss to control the flood of emotions it gives him.

Jason turns his head at the last second, Dick’s lips meeting the corner of his mouth. 

“Priorities,” He chides, tugging insistently at the neck of Dick’s sleep shirt. Dick huffs out a laugh, kissing the dimple of Jason’s cheek before giving in and moving away. He strips quickly, too impatient to put on a show, before turning greedy hands to Jason’s own clothing.

He spends long moments just looking, when Jason is finally bare beneath him. He itches to touch - to kiss and bite and _mark_ \- but the need to memorize the sight before him is more pressing. 

Jason squirms under his stare, _whining_ \- this needy, desperate sound Dick wants to taste, wants to _devour_ , and even now it feels surreal to know he can. He surges forward - hips rocking down, grinding them together to feel the way Jason’s nails bite into his shoulders in reaction - and steals the noise from Jason’s lips.

His hand slides up - slow, indulgent, from bent knee to decadent thigh, to rippling abdomen then pounding heartbeat, before settling on the sharp jut of Jason’s jaw.

“ _Relax_ ,” Dick whispers, spit slick lips brushing against Jason’s. His heart’s in his throat - between his goddamn _teeth_ \- as he _feels_ the way Jason’s jaw goes lax beneath his fingers. As he watches Jason open his mouth, lips bruised red and sinful, drool pooling in the corners; a plea without words.

And maybe Dick wants to hear Jason beg, wants to see him cry _for_ him, but he’s unable to deny Jason anything in this moment. He slides two fingers into that wet heat, gives a groan of his own when Jason doesn’t hesitate - laving at them, sloppy and desperate and the hottest thing Dick’s ever seen.

“There you go, sweetheart,” He murmurs, eyes fixed on the way Jason’s mouth is taking him in. His own voice is already wrecked, years of hopeless pining and guilty daydreams apparent in every syllable, and it’s almost enough to disguise how _wrong_ the voice is, how foreign it sounds when coming from his own throat.

Jason’s tongue curls, clever as the rest of him, and Dick has a sudden flash of Jason’s lips wrapped around the finger stripes of the Nightwing costume. His cock _jerks_ at the thought, almost painful in its intensity, and the ragged moan that leaves him is forced out between clenched teeth.

He’s slow slow _slow_ as he eases his fingers from Jason’s mouth, pushing down on Jason’s tongue until he images Jason can taste every whorl, hooking them behind his bottom teeth and _tugging_ until Jason has no choice but to follow them upward. It’s only then, when Jason’s neck is straining and he’s all but a hair’s breadth away, that Dick replaces his fingers with his own hungry mouth.

“Bedside drawer,” Jason pants out, long moments later, and Dick doesn’t hesitate. It feels like ages before his saliva soaked fingers find the lube bottle amongst the various odds and ends in the drawer, every second not spent melting into Jason’s warmth a second wasted.

“Yeah, _yeah_ , fucking - _hurry up_ ,” Jason moans as Dick slicks his fingers, trying for brash but hitting needy instead - making up for it with a biting kiss just this side of vicious to the thin skin of Dick’s jaw.

Dick - when Dick had imagined this, he’d imagined it slow, soft. He hadn’t been naive enough to picture a dozen roses, or flickering candles, or anything else he knew Jason would regard with nothing but suspicion. But he had imagined laying Jason out, taking his time with him. Drawing out every whimper and moan, eating him out until his jaw _ached_ and then fucking him until their legs gave out.

The reality of it is - impossible, overwhelming, and Dick doesn’t even take the time to warm the lube between his hands before he’s working Jason open.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jason moans, shaky, and Dick can do nothing but agree, all of his focus locked onto Jason’s expression: his flushed face, his blown black eyes, the _oh_ of his bitten bloody mouth. The way that expression shifts, the flutter of his dark eyelashes, as Dick tucks a second finger inside, as he curls them and finds the spot that makes Jason _whimper_.

“You’re doing so well,” Dick praises, all but _coos_ , desperate to lean back and watch the way Jason’s body is gripping his fingers tight but just as desperate to not lose a second of what his Little Wing looks like when he’s lost to sensation. 

Jason makes the decision for him, nails leaving lines from his nape to the center of his back as Jason shivers all over from the praise. It’s enough to make something in Dick _snap_ ; the breaking of levees that have been holding back years worth of adoration.

“ _God_ , sweetheart, look at you,” He trails kisses, reverent, from the corner of Jason’s trembling mouth to his temple, slips a third finger inside and memorizes the love drunk noise Jason makes in response. “You’re taking me so beautifully - the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.”

“ Shu - _shut up_ ,” Jason demands, whines, nails biting into Dick so hard he’s sure they’re breaking skin, and the idea of that - of carrying Jason’s marks around for days to come - only winds Dick up tighter.

“Never,” Dick promises, twisting his wrist just so, and thinks _I’ll spend the rest of my life singing your praises_. 

Jason’s thighs clamp down around his hips, trapping Dick’s arm between them. His nails rake up, retracing their previous path, before grabbing a handful of too long hair. He _tugs_ , sending shivers from the roots of his hair to the base of his spine, and it’s instinct that has Dick following where that hand is guiding him.

In a blur of movement Dick finds himself on his back, staring up at Jason who manages to look victorious even as he shudders at the loss of Dick’s fingers. Dick’s hands lock, bruising tight, over Jason’s hips, so stupidly turned on it’s hard to think straight.

“So much for _never_ ,” Jason teases as he grabs the lube. The touch of Jason’s slick palm to his cock is enough to have Dick biting back a moan. 

Even that is nothing - _nothing_ \- compared to the moment Jason lines them up. _This is really happening_ , Dick thinks, incredulous, before all thought flees as Jason slowly - _so, so slowly_ \- sinks down. 

It’s - divine is a word invented for the way Jason feels from the inside - the tight, wet heat of him something worthy of worship. Obscene a word only truly understood when put to use to describe the noises coming from Jason’s perfect mouth.

“ _God_ ,” Jason moans, as he seats himself fully, and his voice is - _fuck_ , Jason’s voice is molten gold, poured into the very veins of him, blazing a trail down Dick’s spine and making a home at the heart of him.

They take a second to breathe, eyes locked on each other, and then, without warning, Jason starts to _move_. A slow, sensuous roll of his hips that belongs in porn and fantasies, that’s setting Dick’s every nerve alight.

“Fu-” It’s a bitten off gasp, more idea than word. He’s sure he’s leaving bruises on Jason’s hips, stark marks of his fingertips to match the imprints of his teeth in Jason’s neck. Dick’s not sure he’s ever felt so wild; his skin a cage he wants to climb out of so he can sink into Jason’s.

He angles his hips up, feet planted firmly on the mattress, and knows he’s found the right spot when Jason _keens_. The headboard thuds against the wall with every thrust of Dick’s hips, every roll of Jason’s. The air humid, ripe with sex and gasping breaths. Liquid fire pooling in his stomach and arcing through his veins.

“Come here,” Dick asks, begs, his mind a litany of demands for _closer faster harder more_. His hand fits perfectly as it curves around the back of Jason’s neck, pulling him in until Dick can plant kisses to Jason’s moaning mouth. 

“ _Shit_ ,” It’s a jagged little noise, more air than anything, when Dick’s free hand curls around Jason’s cock. Jason’s hands scrabble from where they’d been braced against Dick’s chest, his arms shaking as Dick does his level best to destroy him.

“I’m going to ruin you,” Dick promises, voice a rasp so possessive and soaked with want he doesn’t recognize it, “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. No one will ever be able to make you feel like I do. No one will ever be brave enough to even _try_.”

He twists his wrist, callused palm catching on the leaking head of Jason’s cock in time with a particularly vicious thrust. Jason cries out as he comes between them, his face something Dick’s going to remember for the rest of his goddamn life.

It feels like permission; his goal of making Jason shake apart now complete so that he can chase after his own release. It doesn’t take much - a handful more thrusts into the tight clutch of Jason’s body before the tsunami of need that’s been building since this started crashes over him.

Jason collapses on top of him, body a warm, treasured weight pressing him into the bed. Dick wraps his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty curls and then, when that makes Jason try to hide a smile, a kiss to the corner of his eye. 

“I love you,” He murmurs, because the words have been trapped behind his teeth for years and he’s tired of holding them in. Jason _grins_ , cheek dimpling with the force of it.

“I love you, too.”

Jason ducks his head down, tucking it into the crook of Dick’s neck, and Dick thinks he could stay here forever. _Knows_ he could, really.

The morning is just giving way to afternoon, sunlight dappling the expanse of Jason’s back, when a persistent buzzing tears its way through their peaceful daze. 

“Ignore it,” Dick tries to insist, loath to let this moment end, but knows it’s a lost cause anyway. After all, Jason isn’t prone to giving his number away freely - if someone’s calling, it’s because they need to be.

Jason flails an arm out until he grabs the phone off the charger. There’s a long second, Jason staring with bleary eyes at the screen as Dick plays with his hair, before he gives an irritated groan. He throws the phone down amongst the pillows, burrowing back down into Dick’s arms.

“Why the fuck do I have six missed calls from Dick?” He grumbles, breath warm on Dick’s neck, and reality reasserts itself like a punch to the gut.

**Author's Note:**

> Jason initiates the sex, and is an enthusiastic participant, but does so under the belief that it's Roy he's having sex with, not Dick.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://chthonicjason.tumblr.com)


End file.
